
Gopyiiglitl^ 



Q I if^f 



CflPHRIGHT DEPOSm 



Cobblestones 



TilE ALFRED A. KNOPF PUBLICATION 
PRIZE WAS OFFERED BY MR. ALFRED A. 
KNOPF OF THE CLASS OF igi2 COLUM- 
BIA COLLEGE TO UNDERGRADUATES OF 
THE COLLEGE WHO SHOWED PROMISE 
AS WRITERS. THE PRIZE CONSISTS OF 
THE PUBLICATION EACH YEAR OF THAT 
BOOK BY AN UNDERGRADUATE WHICH 
IS JUDGED MOST DESERVING OF THE 
HONOR. MR. SENTNER's BOOK, WHICH 
WON THE AWARD FOR 1 92 1, IS THE 
FIRST TO SUCCEED IN THIS COMPETI- 
'1 ION. 



Cobblestones 



by 
David Sentner 



New York 

Alfred • A • Knopf 

1921 



COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY 
ALFRED A. KNOPF, Inc. 



..^'•^'k^ 






V 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMEEICA 

DEC 22 1921 






Inscribed 

to 

Mary Southerland Steele 



CONTENTS 

The Valley of Lost Steps, 9 

The Bricklayer, 11 

Aristocracy, 12 

Mrs. Potts Ascends, 13 

I have a Rendezvous With Life, 14 

Tree in a Canyon, 16 

The Death of Pan, 17 

Life of a City, 18 

The Devil Visits Broadway, ig 

A Lilt, 20 

A Rumbling, 21 

A Thought, 22 

Day of Judgment, 23 

Two Voices, 24 

The Subway Guard, 25 

Blasphemy, 26 

Neighbors, 27 

Geographically Speaking, 28 

Unto The End, 30 

Closing of the Grill, 31 

Wall Street, 32 

The Web of Life, 33 

Out of the Line, 34 

Khaki and Gold, 35 

The Citation, 37 

Economics, 38 

Taps, 39 

Logs, 40 

A Blue Law, 41 

Among the Ravine, 42 

The Revelation, 43 



CONTENTS 

A Mother, 44 

Woman, 45 

A Rose, 46 

The Hobo and the Dream Child, 47 

As Seen From the Stars, 49 

The Ritual, 50 

Three Wishes, 51 

The Weather, 52 

The Arch-Murderer, 53 

A Silly Lad, 54 

The Cynic, 55 

On the Train, 56 

Evolution, 57 

Philosophy, 58 

A Cynogram, 59 

Growing-Pains, 60 

Sanctuary, 61 

The Man Who Lived in jail, 62 

Tracks, 75 

The Surf, 76 

Efficiency, 77 

Balance, 79 

Usage, 80 

Headings, 81 

Gifts, 82 

Intelligence, 83 

Sky in a City, 84 

The Pervert, 85 

The Tattler, 86 

Tactics, 87 

Birdlings, 89 

The Smiths, 90 



The Valley of Lost Steps 

I stood nigh the Valley of Steps That Are Lost 
And listened to echoes that come and go 
Like breezes thru the fingers of the trees. 

The tiny step of a toddling child 

Who knew not the path ahead; 

The jerky beat of a vigorous youth 

Who hustled toward quick success; 

The clump and thump of an army boot 

Which tramped the long, long one-way road 

To the parapet in France; 

The clodding plod of a routine man 

Who followed the rut of environment; 

The mincing patter of debutante 

Down the Aisle of Life 

With its rosy hedges; 

The weary, dreary shuffle of woman 

Who trudged the sands of a household wilderness. 

But as they neared the Valley of Lost Steps 
Their cadences were joined 
In one vast symphony 

[9] 



As if it were but one 

And only one 

Who trod in dignity deliberate 

Toward the Valley where bare feet 

Dance noiselessly on velvet grass. 



in] 



The Bricklayer 

I have been laying bricks 

Each upon its brother 

For days and months and years 

And it is irksome 

As sifting the ashes of Hell. 

I remember when I was a child 

I played with colored blocks 

Untiringly 

And found it good. 



[II] 



Aristocracy 

An oyster in an oyster-bed 

Where every oyster held a pearl 

Swallowed a diamond. 

He bragged about his wealth 

Spouting at his fellows 

Who could boast only of pearl. 

But there came a day 

When he was scooped up 

Pried apart and robbed 

Of both his diamond and his pearl, 

Then scornfully thrown back 

Into the muddy depth, 

Maimed and mangled. 

Yet this proud oyster 

Became King of the Oysters. 

For was it not distinction 

To be pearlless 

In a colony 

Of pearl-oysters? 



[12] 



Mrs. Potts Ascends 

Mrs. Potts the Social Climber 
Dreamed she made ascent to Heaven 
Broke into the Inner Circle 
Gave a party to the Angels 
All the Notables attended. 

Decked in halo made of moonbeams 
Wore her wings of solid star-dust 
Streaked with sky and rosy sunset 
Even God remarked with fervour, 
"Mrs. Potts, you look superb." 



[13] 



I Have a Rendezvous 
with Life 

I have a rendezvous with Life 
That travels fast as shooting star 
And stops the tick of clock. 

I have a rendezvous with Life 

Within a cluttered city, 

Where ragged elbows 

Rub with elbows of fine texture, 

Where hearts beat high and low 

With joy and sorrow. 

Where everybody counts and counts. 

I have a rendezvous with Life 

Within a drawing room, 

Where tinkle teacups and small talk, 

Where bosoms are half-naked 

And souls are fully veiled, 

Where teeth are bared in sweetest smile. 

Where fox is sheep and sheep is fox. 

Beneath the glistening crystal lights. 

[14] 



I have a rendezvous with Life 

Within a whirring factory, 

Where machines run men, 

Where toys and delicacies 

Are flavored with sweat and toil. 

Where brawn is built and brain is numbed. 

I have a rendezvous with Life 

Within a lonely farmhouse. 

Where the breeze is clean 

And men and grain attain full growth. 

Where God is on four sides and by the hearth. 

Where women gossip openly 

And help each other at harvest time 

No matter what space of sky 

There be between each farm. 



[15] 



Tree in a Canyon 

I love to walk 

Through a certain city canyon 

Flanked by cliffs of dwellings drab 

Where grows a tree 

On the outer sidewalk. 

I do not know the name of the tree 
For I am city-bred. 



[i6] 



The Death of Pan 

On excellent authority 

I've heard of how Pan died. 

It seems that walking in his sleep 

His Majesty awoke 

To find himself 

Upon a Subway station. 

He joined the dance 

Thinking it was some frolicking 

Of city satyrs. 



[17] 



Life of a City 

Numbers and prices of things — 

Babies and married couples — 

Old ladies and sometimes old men — 

Churches, lodging houses, theatres, 

Slums and places to eat — 

The waiting for the man one step ahead 

To drop dead. 

Underneath it all 

A series of glows and hurts 

And equilibriums 

That only the person knows 

But never shows completely. 



[i8] 



The Devil Visits Broadway 

In tattered garb of beggar came the Devil 
To scorch the blackish mark upon the soul 
Of mortals in the City of Cold Hearts. 

And as he walked the ill-famed street, 
A ragged urchin offered him 
His only crust of bread. 

In rage the Devil melted back to Hell. 



[19] 



A Lilt 

I grasped the greasy subway strap 
And read the lurid advertisements 
I chewed my gum voraciously 
Inhaled strange fumes pugnaciously. 
I heard the grating of the wheels 
And felt that the chords 
Of my city soul 
Were in perfect tune. 



[20] 



A Rumbling 

I thought I heard the World 
Creaking and groaning on its axis. 
I looked out from my window 
And saw a lusty steamroller 
(Rattling slowly on Its way 
Towards the destination 
Which it was sure to reach 
In due time. 



[21] 



A Thought 



Like a brilliant Thought 
That rises from its fellows 
A bright toy-balloon 
Broke from a cluster. 

Lifted by a breeze 

It soared above white dwellings 

To sink into a dingy alley. 

A grimy child 

Aglow at the beauty of its roundness 

Greedily grasped the balloon 

And pressed it to his narrow chest. 

A vagrant pin 
Pierced the rubber bubble 
But the child kept the remnant 
Prizing it for its color. 



[22] 



Day of Judgment 

The next day was to be 

The Day of Judgment 

And plans were made 

For a monstrous brass band. 

The papers teemed 

With the controversy being waged 

As to which churchman would make 

The welcoming address 

To the great Jehovah. 

The people of the slums 
Were also excited 
And ate an extra piece 
Of bread for supper. 



[23] 



Two Voices 

A famous singer lay 

At the portal of Death. 

Bulletins issued hourly 

By a staff of specialists 

Were read by an anxious world 

Shocked at the thought 

Of losing their beloved song-bird- 

And the price of his 

Phonograph records rose. 

At the lower end of the city 
In a murky room 
A foreign woman moaned alone 
Over her little boy that was — 
"Never no more shall I hear 
My dear bambino's voice." 



[24] 



The Subway Guard 

Pasty-faced and weary-eyed 

He sealed the coach 

With load of human cattle. 

I shouted him, "What station next?" 
But twinkling thought inquired me, 
"What was he the Life Before?" 

He howled me the station's name 
But my sub-conscious ear received, 
"I was an eagle," 



[25] 



Blasphemy 



Overhead the shamefaced stars 
Softly scan the street below 
Where the shops in splendour sparkle, 
Where the signs of theatres dazzle, 
As along the gleaming highway 
Head-lights come and tail-lights go. 

Timidly the Dawn creeps in 
And the blasphemed Sun mounts high 
Beating vainly on the windows 
Of tall buildings where the workers 
Count the debits and the credits 
Under lamps with greenish shades. 



[26] 



Neighbors 

For years I have lived 

In an edifice of stone 

But never met my neighbor; 

Yet we may He 

Side by side 

Forever. 



[27] 



Geographically Speaking 

NORTH— 

There are as many baby-carriages 
Along St. Nicholas Avenue 
As there are automobiles 
Upon Fifth Avenue, 

SOUTH— 

Ferries, commuters, shrieks from peanut-stands. 
And the breezes from the Bay — 
Where one can stand on the Battery wall 
And see the Statue and bigger things. 

EAST— 

At the lower end, 

Scarcely enough room to live decently; 

At the upper end, 

Too much room to live democratically. 

WEST— 

Giving birth to the "Upper West Side," 
Which covers a multitude of rents; 
Far below is Greenwich Village, 

[28] 



The aromatic section of Sixth Avenue ware- 
houses, 
And the financial district 
With its nation-wide tentacles. 

A New Yorker is like a chameleon 
Camping upon a piece of plaid. 



[29] 



Unto the End 

Twenty-four hours to live 

As the end of the world is proclaimed. 

The millionaire scatters his gold — 
The lawyer opens the jails — 
The minister goes to a dance — 
The atheist starts in to pray — 
While the Poet keeps on trading — trading- 
Old dreams for new. 



[30] 



Closing the Grill 

Crystal chandeliers out-gleaming the stars — 
Soft pink shades casting a mellow light — 
Xapery, white as snow on a roof — 
Chinaware, dainty as a baby's birthday ring. 

Sleek-haired men with females 
Of silks, satins and cosmetics 
Patter correctly over the parquet floor 
Through the mirrored doorway. 

Waiters' imitation shirt-bosoms are displaced 
As tables are stripped 
Exposing the pine wood 
Topped by burlap. 



[31] 



Wall Street 

A whirling dervish 

In the center 

Of a moving merry-go-round 

About which vast crowds mill 

While the world 

Twirls upon its axis. 



[32] 



The Web of Life 

Life in a dug-out is a gray monotony 

And trifles grow to great importance. 

One night we spied a spider 

Centered in his flimsy, fine-spun web. 

"Oh let the poor dumb devil be," one lad put in. 

"Let's clean him out and wipe the web," 

Another doughboy said. 

"And if we do, he'll only spin again;" 

At which I deftly dealt a blow 

With army mitten 

That sent the bug 

Into the Big Beyond of Insects. 

Next dawn a leaden load 

Wiped out our dirty dug-out 

Which we were forced to build again. 



[33] 



Out of the Line 

Wild growths of beard — 

Uniforms in shreds — 

Shoes clotted with gobs of mud. 

Eyes droop wearily, 
Suddenly blink hysterically, 
And then are set in a stare. 
As if we saw the horrible thing 
All over again. 

Lines that would take Nature 

Years to produce, 

(Seam the region 

About the forehead, eyes and mouth. 

Men who have receiveci the highest culture 

That civilization can give. 

Wear a snarling, savage, demented expression. 

Is it over? 
How is it we live? 
And all the gang? 
So many faces are missing. 
So cold — yet just from Hell. 
[34] 



Khaki and Gold 

Upon an upland region of fair France 

A field of gold and khaki lay outspread. 

Clusters of pure unassuming daisies — 

Each flower matched by tawny tunic'd youth. 

And as they sprawled upon the dewy grass 

The signal softly came for "jumping off." 

All eagerly the lads sprang to their feet; 

There came a lull to harmonize the line. 

A lean and dour Yank stooped low and plucked 

A handful of svv^eet daisies from their home, 

And thrust them in the muzzle of his gun 

And garlanded his helmet with some more, 

Inspiring his buddies to the same. 

"Let's give 'em daisies!" rasped an Easterner. 

"And Hell !" roared out a boy from the far West. 

A long, lithe line swept o'er the open field 

To music of the thunderous barrage; 

And every here and there a gap was shown 

With daisy showers as the lads plunged down. 

What scattering of gold and mud and blood! 

Quite limp these blessed flowers strewed the 

ground. 
Where but before the wind and sun had made 

[35] 



Them palpitate in youthful joy of life, 

Now they lay quiet in eternal sleep. 

With petals stripped from off their graceful stems 

Yet there they seemed to rest in peace upon 

The ground from which the enemy had fled. 



[36] 



The Citation 

Hungry as a Hun 

And nervous as a tent 

Taut in the wind 

The doughboy stood 

While a medal 

Was pinned upon his breast. 

Feeling a speech required 

He mumbled: 

"You can't eat It 

"And you can't smoke it." 

Not understanding English 

As we Americans speak, it 

The French officer said; 

"Thus are brave soldiers 

Rewarded!" 



[37] 



Economics 

In France 

They fed the horses daily 

While at times we doughboys starved. 

In the factory 

We were taught the value 

Of machinery 

And how inefficient it was 

To get mangled. 

I wonder if in Hell 

They'll tell us 

To be careful of the coal. 



[38] 



Taps 

(An accompaniment) 

Soldier's sweet — song of sleeps — 
Long he'll lie with this last lullabye— 
Sound the notes — strong and pure— 
So they soar with his soul to the sky— 



[39 



Logs 



Two logs met in a fire-place; 

Each fell in love at first touch. 

"Will you lean on me forever?" 

Said the hard cedar wood. 

"Nothing shall part us!" 

Swore the soft pine wood. 

And their flame of love 

Ascended as they kissed. 

But soon the fire dwindled unto ashes 

And their love lay cold upon the hearth. 



[40] 



A Blue Law 

One time In Bolshevikia 
There was a dreadful drop 
In church attendance. 
So a law was passed 
Charging exorbitant prices 
For pew reservations. 
From then on 

The temples were thronged 
And people boasted 
Of their frequent trips 
To church. 



[41J 



Among the Ravine 

Tripping lightly along 

The narrow, rocky ravine 

That leads up to Success, 

Love spied Gold 

Plodding sternly ahead. 

She tried to pass 

And then a struggle followed. 

The glint in the eyes of Gold 

Bothered Love — 

So she was overcome. 



[42] 



The Revelation 

In the blessed Beyond 

The Soul of a husband 

Met the Soul of his wife 

And said, 

"I never knew you were so beautiful. 



[43] 



A Mother 

She nursed him — 
She taught him — 
She worked for him — 
She visited him in prison. 
But he had broken both 
The law of God and man 
And died for it. 
She cried for him — 
Then went to church for him. 



[44] 



Woman 

A super scientist placed 
In his crucible 
Vanity and Virtue 
Mixed with Temperance 
Hoping to produce 
A woman. 

Many, many times he tried 
But failed and finally 
Gave up in deep despair. 
Success awaited him 
If he had thought 
Of dropping in a grain 
Of Love. 



[45] 



A Rose 

Beneath the sun's caresses 

Bloomed the rose 

Until 'twas plucked and kissed 

By one whose red, red lips 

Shamed the rose Into a bloodless lily. 

From amorous embrace that night 
The rose was crushed to death. 



[46] 



The Hobo and the 
Dream Child 

In a box-car on a siding 

Sat the hobo 

CuddHng a puny fire 

Made from straw. 

The Dream Child toddled up 

In shivering rags and said: 

"I cannot find a shelter." 

The hobo wrapped it 

In a burlap bag 

And bade it curl 

Beside the smoky flame, 

Feeding the blaze 

With the remaining straw 

Which formed his bed. 

The Dream Child told him 

Of its coming from 

A place in which the gold 

Was plentiful as water 

And gushed through iron pipes 

For use by all 

Who loved its beauty. 

The hobo packed the Dream Child off 

[47] 



On a rumbling fast freight 

Bound for its distant country. 

He went back to the ashes 

Of his straw fire and wondered 

Why there wasn't straw enough in the world 

For everybody's fire. 



[48] 



As Seen from the Stars 

It was in the School of the Stars 

Where all the little bright ones 

Were learning psychology from a scholar. 

"Instinctive actions are displayed," 

Said the High-Light, 

"In their purest form 

By animals not very high 

In the scale of intelligence. 

Among the mortals 

The men become blind and deaf 

To all other impressions 

As they follow the trail of gold." 



[49] 



The Ritual 

When he was baptized — 
Red-faced and sticky 
As a ball of candy 
They said: 
"Doesn't he look lovely." 

When he was married — 
His evening coat askew 
And nervous as a flea 
They saici: 
"Doesn't he look lovely." 

When he lay in his casket — 

Pale and wasted 

Like a washed-out painting 

They said: 

"Doesn't he look lovely." 



[50] 



Three Wishes 

If I had three wishes td~ use 

To shav^e the world of its sharp edges, 

First, I would wish 

That everyone had a sense of humor — 

And secondly I'd wish 

That my first wish would bear good fruit; 

And with my last 

I'd wish for three more wishes 

So to wish what I had wished before — 

All over again. 

And thus I'd wish my life away 

And die in laughter. 



[51] 



The Weather 

He felt that the Sun 

Was a glorious flame 

And the Air that he breathed 

Was exquisite perfume 

And Life was very good after all; 

So he said to his friend, 

"Isn't it a nice day?" 



[52] 



The Arch-Murderer 

An arch-murderer slit the throat 

Of every lawyer. 

When brought before the bar 

He pleaded his own case 

And drew a sentence 

Of thirty days in jail. 



[53] 



A Silly Lad 



'"Cause everybody loves and smiles 

"And gives at Christmas time 

"Why cannot every day be Christmas, Dad?' 

"Because a man must work and fight 
"To earn a lot of money 
"For next Christmas, Son." 

"Well, if a man stopped 
"Making lots of money 
"Wouldn't every day be Christmas?" 

"Now, don't be silly, little man, 
"When you grow up you'll understand 
"Why every day cannot be Christmas." 



[54] 



The Cynic 

"There is no God 

"There is no Love 

"And man is made of clay." 

The youthful Cynic 

Spoke and smiled 

Like a garden of golden sunbeams. 

And then I knew 

Lie was no Cynic. 



[55] 



On the Train 

I saw an oak 

Sturdy and strong 

And said to myself, 

"Ah! that is man!" 

I glimpsed a bird flying 

Swift and sure 

And thought again of man. 

My brother commuter 

Turned to me and said; 

"Hope the train's on time; 

I've been late so much 

The last few days 

I'm ashamed to look the boss in the face." 



Is^-] 



Evolution 

A fashionable man 
Loved a maiden of a land 
Quite uncivilized. 

He made the maid his wife 
And he taught her all the life 
That was civilized. 

In a very little while 
She adopted all the style 
That was civilized. 

From the diamonds on her ears 
Or the brooch upon her breast 
And the load of heavy rings — 
No one ever could have guessed 
That once she was 
Uncivilized. 



[57] 



Philosophy 

I sat a siege 

With a group of philosophers 

And at the finish 

ReaHzed 

How practical a person 

A savage is. 



58] 



A Cynogram 

The unknown Weaver works 

A warp of joy 

And woof of sorrow. 

At different times it is 

A radiant rainbow, 

A Scotch plaid, 

Or a block of sombre black. 

This Cloth of Life 

Contains few strands 

That we, ourselves, insert; 

Yet we must wear it. 



[59] 



Growing- Pains 

To reach the prime 

Of Eternity 

Life's children all must suffer 

'Growing-pains 

Which we call 

Death. 



[60] 



Sanctuary 



In a temple of worship 

I sat and waited for the ceremony 

Of brotherhood to begin. 

A lumbering ox of a person 

In entering the pew 

Settled his foot upon my own. 

If it had not been the House of the Lord 

I would have killed the lout. 



[6i] 



The Man Who Lived in Jail 

Ninety miles south of the Rio Grande 

Lies Santa Natalia 

Fast the waste of mesquite and nopal 

Tucked in the valley of Las Huitlacoches 

With its charm of sunny, restful remoteness. 

The stress and scuffle of Anglo-Saxon America 

Seems like a dream of another world 

As one yields to the carefree atmosphere 

Of the land of yesterday 

And the to-morrow that never comes. 

The inhabitants of this tiny, lonely oasis 

Are a kindly, simple folk, 

Unspoiled by commercialism 

And untouched by the ebb and flow 

Of Mexico's recurrent civil wars. 

There is a wealth of pasturage 

For their cattle, sheep and goats. 

And a fertile soil that yields 

Rich crops of corn and sugar cane. 

The government is the comandante 
And a somnolent garrison of perhaps a dozen 
soldiers 

[62] 



Whose arms are single-shot Remingtons 

And relic Mausers from the Spanish-American 

war. 
Enemy parties of guerrillas 
Leave them amiably indifferent; 
They are quite as willing to shout "viva" 
For one side as for the other. 

I learned there was but one soul in the hamlet 
Who spoke English — 
And he was in jail. 

I strolled down the ragged trail 

And came to an adobe building 

Somewhat larger than the ordinary dwelling, 

In the shade of which was sprawled 

A motley group of soldiers; 

I asked one the location of the jail. 

"You are looking at it, brother," 
Said he in excellent American. 

"Are you from the States?" I asked, 
Puzzled over his swarthy complexion. 
"I am half Mexican, born in Santa Natalia; 
I have lived some years in New York; 
I am here because I wish to be." 

[63] 



He was not over thirty-five 

But his eyes showed centuries of something; 

Slender, and with the fingers of a pianist, 

He was not of the adventurer type. 

His face seemed strangely famihar 

And I felt that I had met him 

Somewhere in the past. 

"Are you the warden?" 

"No," he answered after a thoughtful pause; 

"I am the star prisoner; 

After New York vv^as through with me 

I came to Santa Natalia; 

One night I was drinking in the cantina 

And had a row with a man 

Who was something in the government. 

They put me in here and forgot about me; 

That was two years ago. 

"I have it very easy; 
There is nothing to do 
But eat, sleep, and enjoy myself. 
When I want a little paseo, 
They give me a guard to take me out; 
I drift around the town 
And people give me 
All the eats and cigarettes I need. 

[64] 



The comandante and the priest 
Get books for me to read. 

"Sometimes when I am lucky with the dice 

We put on a little show at the cantina; 

Then they send another guard 

To bring us both back home. 

Nobody cares, because what is the use?" 

Manuel, he was called. 
Insisting that he had forgotten 
His last name. 

After the strife and turmoil of New York 
This passive village soothed the ragged nerves. 
I could understand Manuel — 
In Mexico there is no to-morrow. 

One morning I idly watched a burro 

Who roused himself occasionally 

To nibble at the mesquite leaves. 

Sleepy chickens taking a sun and dust bath, 

Expressed their contentment by faint croonings. 

Two children naively unaware of their nakedness. 

Played in the shade, building little sand houses, 

And trying to entice a dog to play with them; 

Finally they tired of play 

And stretched out to sleep beside their dog. 



The hotel-front was a cascade 

Of creeping vines and flowers. 

There was no sign of life 

Save the fluttering of brilliant butterflies, 

The whirring of a hummingbird, 

And the drowsy droning of a bumblebee. 

Over the dull, twisting trail of yellow, 

A distant cloud of dust arose. 

"Best come inside, Senor. 

I do not know who is coming. It may be . . 

The voice of Trujillo, the inn-keeper. 

Melted into his heavy breathing. 

I entered; 

The entire family was within 

And my host was barring the heavy door. 

The windows with their cemented iron bars 

Threw shadows around the room. 

In the distance sounded a crisp crackling; 
From the juzgado 

Came the sharp, biting reports of Mausers 
And heavier punctuations of old Remingtons 
In a lively fusillade. 
The firing increased In volume 
And then it suddenly ceased. 
I heard an outbreak of falsetto Indian yells; 
A Trujillo youngster peering from the window 

[66] 



Called to his father that the garrison had 
surrendered. 

Outside, the victors were riding 

Toward the fallen fortress. 

They were a fierce-faced group of thirty. 

What they lacked in uniformity of dress, 

They made up in variety of weapons. 

The color-bearer was an Indian girl 

With eyes that pranced 

Like a pair of jet black steeds. 

The comandante and the guerrilla chief 

Bartered bows and compliments. 

The latter made a grandiloquent address 

Filled with such words as "patriotism" 

And "honor" and "civilization" 

In which he granted amnesty complete 

To all of Santa Natalia. 

The garrison promptly swore allegiance 

To the new government 

And the comandante philosophically 

Went home for his afternoon siesta. 

A few evenings afterward 

I listened to the unexcited gossip 

In the Cafe of the Little Drop of Water. 

[67] 



In stumbled Manuel as tipsy as a top, 
With desperate eyes and lips compressed; 
Thrusting his head upon his folded arms, 
He wore the sign of dull despondency. 

"Homesick?" I soothingly said. 

"Homeless is a better word," he huskily replied. 

"Where is your guard?" 

"No more guard — no more jail," he sadly said. 
"Garcia, the head of the new government 
A few days back told me that I was free; 
He wanted me to be the comandante. 
I begged him to inform me of my crime, 
That he should make me leave my jail. 
He waved his arms and swore 
That never would he confine 
One of the country's patriots." 

"Were you so fond of the carcel?" 

He wanly smiled and with a supercilious touch 
As the sky might look at a grain of sand. 
"What more could a man desire? 
All sorts of leisure and no responsibility — 
No pleasure-loving woman 

[68] 



To turn a man Into a routine rat; 
Nor is there any subway 
To crush the soul of a man 
Into a paltry pellet." 

I said encouragingly: 

"Where there's a will there's a jail." 

"I've been drunk as a duck," he said, 

"And nobody will notice me. 

I have picked a fight with many 

But not one gave me a chance to shoot." 

He sighed and then continued: 

"Last evening, I flirted 

With the standard bearer of Garcia 

And induced her to run away with me. 

Hiding her In a cabin deep in the mountains, 

I despatched a messenger to Garcia 

Telling him of what I had done. 

He sent back word 

That he was eternally obliged 

As he had tried for long 

To rid himself of her. 

The girl Is now in love with me 

And wants to work for IVIanuel 

And says she would be happy 

If I will beat her daily." 

[69] 



"You do not wish to own her?" 

I could not forget 

The Indian girl with eyes like prancing blacks. 

He had time to look far back into the past. 
With his sombre brown eyes before he answered. 
"A man can have a woman or happiness — 
But not both." 

Days later came the news 

That a bold bandit had robbed the paymaster 

Of the Sierra Mining Company. 

The native officials were full of promises 

For the capture of the robber; 

Privately they yawned. 

Two troopers from the mining village 

Eventually wandered over; 

They visited the garrison, 

Smoked corn-shuck cigarettes, 

Chatted and flirted with the senoritas; 

Bye and bye they jogged unhurriedly away. 

Manuel told me all about it. 

He was in lofty spirits; 

Not so drunk as usual 

And with a hopeful countenance. 

He sprawled upon a chair, 

Slowly puffing a cigarette. 

[70] 



"When the paymaster's hand went to his hip, 

I almost dropped my Colt and fled into the cactus; 

He pulled out a roll of bills 

As thick, as a burro's belly. 

I told him I was Manuel 

From Santa Natalia. 

It should be only a question of time 

When I will be back in my cozy jail." 

A week passed, which in Mexico 

Is as long or as short as you care to make It. 

There was no further sign 

Of any official interest in the robbery. 

Manuel was getting nervous; 

He boldly boasted of the hold-up. 

His listeners would laugh good-naturedly, 

Not raising their eyes from the dominoes. 

I prepared to leave for Vera Cruz . 
And catch a vessel back 
To the City of Worry and Scurry 
As Manuel called New York, 

He heard of my preparations 
And came to see me. 
"Leaving?" he slowly said. 

"If you would care to go North with me, 
I could use you, Manuel; 

[71] 



And I promise to provide you 
With plenty paseo." 

Manuel shook his head decisively 

And faster smoked his corn-shuck cigarette. 

He dug into his faded muddy tunic 

Bringing forth a musty bag. 

"Here is the result of the hold-up. 

It is only money — 

But there is a reward for its return. 

If I brought it myself to the Justice 

The company would never receive it 

And I would probably be murdered 

For knowing too much." 

I did not understand and told him so. 

"The mining company is Americano; 

You tell the superintendent 

I am the bandit; 

Tell him that I will surrender; 

Then see the comandante and let him know 

He may obtain the reward 

If he but sentence me." 

"Why not skip away with the money 
And make yourself comfortable?" 

[72] 



His features hardened as he said; 

"I did that once, — never again; 

Once I was prisoner and slave 

To a woman when I was free; 

Back in jail all that was past and done with; 

I was free from worry 

And had only to pass each day 

Dreaming and smoking in the shade." 

I was struck with a flash of memory. 
"Weren't you the teller in the Times Square 
National?" 

"It was so," he confessed, 

"Sing Sing spilled me out two years ago; 

The woman got it all 

And went away with another, 

So I came here and made myself a home." 

. . . That evening I brought the soldiers 
To make the arrest. 

A few days later for the last time 
I rode out of Santa Natalia. 
Before the jail 

Manuel was stretched in the shade 
With the soldiers of the garrison, 
More one of them than prisoner. 

[73] 



"Look me up In New York some time," I greeted. 

"Never again New York for me," he said. 
"I am going to be here 
Until the next revolution — 
Then I w^U break into jail again." 

"Any message for the City 
Of Hustle and Bustle?" 
I bantered. 

"You might tell that poor fool 

Who married my woman 

That I feel great sorrow for him." 

A soldier spoke in Spanish to Manuel; 

He rose and said to me : 

"It is time to go for our paseo. 

We will go to the cantina 

And Juan will give us pulque; 

Then we shall visit Garcia 

And go around to our other friends 

For enchiladas and cafe 

And a little chat. 

Goodbye !" 



[74] 



Tracks 

With a boat for oxen 
A youth plowed the sea 
Until his beard was white 
As the fringe of the waves; 
But always would his furrows 
Vanish as quickly as they came. 

People would say, 
"You fool! 
You have wasted your life 
In doing nothing." 

But he would smile and reply, 
"No one can make tracks in the sea 
Exactly like mine." 



[75] 



The Surf 

The waves are ardent lovers 

Wooing a sweetheart 

With tumultuous kisses; 

When she rebuffs 

They storm with unrelenting fury 

Until she gives herself completely. 



[76] 



Efficiency 



America counted its coins 
With an efficiency 
That made the clink reverberate 
Across the ocean. 

When the flower of Europe's youth 

Became a forest of bayonets, 

And the rattle of Death 

Rolled over the seas, 

\¥e stopped our counting for an instant. 

Shrugged our shoulders, 

And thumbed our coins more feverishly. 

And then we saw strange spots upon the gold 
We poured the blood into the scales 
And balanced it with sunbeams. 

Sunbeams are the Ideals of Nature; 
They are fickle things and hard to grasp. 
Yet give a happy warmth. 

America counted its cartridges 
With an efficiency 

[77] 



That made the world reverberate 
With wonder. 

The sunbeams from a newborn Sun 
Tipped the bloody scales of Justice. 

America is counting coins again 
With an efficiency 
That makes the clink reverberate 
Across the ocean. 

The sunbeams mingle now and then 
With the glint of golden metal: 
We shall count with greater speed 
If we but draw the shade: 
Sunbeams are gooci for the soul 
But hard on the eye. 



[78] 



Balance 

A certain hod-carrier 

For every load of bricks 

Would bear a hod of horseshoes 

On the other shoulder. 

At the top of the ladder 

He'd cast the horseshoes 

To the ground below 

And descend with his pair of hods 

Balanced with equal emptiness . . 

Rhymes at times 
Are like that. 



[79] 



Usage 



I gave some money to a rich man 
And he put it in his bank; 
I gave some money to a tattered beggar 
And he bought more rags for his back. 



[80] 



Headings 



Newsboys seldom read below the headlines: 
Tombstones reach no further than the grass. 



[8i] 



Gifts 

The stars offered a choice of gifts — 
A jewel, a tree, or a pretty child. 

"I'll take the jewel," said the farmer, 
"For it will shine forever 
And there are many trees and children 
But few priceless stones in the world." 

"ril take the tree," said the city man, 

"To plant before my door and give me shade; 

It will grow like ai pretty child 

And yet not show ingratitude." 

"We'll take the child," 

Said the lonely pair; 

"For it will make one of three 

Where two made nothing before." 



[82] 



Intelligence 



When the ancients planned a voyage o'er the seas 
They consulted the oracle at Delphi . . . 

Mrs. Fitz lifted the receiver: 

"Hello, is this the Weather Bureau? 

We are planning a picnic for the orphans; 

Tell me, if you please, 

What sort of day next Saturday will be?" 



[83] 



Sky in a City 



The business man striking his monthly balance 

Looked through his office window — 

The sky is a bank 

And the stars are its fortune. 

The poet on the roof of his boarding house — 
The sky is a garden of phosphorescent flowers. 

Sitting on a park bench with her gentleman friend, 

Mamie said: 

"Look at the bunch of stars in the sky. 

Ain't it awful pretty!" 



[84] 



The Pervert 

He walked home from the office 
Through the park 
And was seized with a perversion. 
He burled his face deep 
In the buds of a rose-bush 
Inhaling the fragrance with rapture. 
Quickly he recovered himself 
And glanced around covertly. 

A short distance away 
A scowling policeman 
Twirled his club threateningly. 



[85] 



The Tattler 

As the city's white day 
Shades into the mauve twilight 
A swallow skims across the cornice 
Of my cage. 

Perhaps he is a woodland scout 
Hastening back with the news 
That another tree has been planted 
Upon the edge of our pavement. 
How the leaves in the forest this night 
Will rustle with gossip ! 



[86] 



Tactics 

"Suppose I am behind? 

Do I spend it on myself? 

I haven't a saucer in the house 

And the kids — your kids — 

The toes are sticking thru their shoes! 

If I don't get ten dollars 

You'll get no supper to-night!" 

Screams Jane. 

"Where do I get the money? 

Can I grind it out like a sausage machine? 

It's ten for this and ten for that 

And now another ten. 

Damn it! You'll make me a thief. 

Here's five; that's all I got!" 

John roars. 

Jane snatches as John stalks out 
Slamming the door behind him. 

On his way to the station John chuckles, 
"Fooled the old lady out of five." 
Foxy boy that John. 

[87] 



Across the dumbwaiter 
Jane boasts to Mrs. Shultz 
How she wheedled five from John 
When she only needed three. 



[88] 



Birdlings 

An out-of-town swallow culling crumbs 
From urban cobble-stones — 
A sophisticated sparrow pecking worms 
Off a luscious landscape. 

A country girl with wistful eyes 
Before a shop of artificial flowers — 
A city maid talking love 
To a dainty dandelion. 



[89] 



The Smiths 

The gas flame seemed to be fanning itself — 

The kitchen was so hot. 

Mrs. Smith left the steaming stove 

To cool her moist cheek at the fire-escape window; 

Surprised to see that the sky was still there 

She wondered if there were Smiths on each soft 

star. 
Mr. Smith shouted from the dining room: 
"The soup was good, Ann; I'm ready for the 

meat!" 



[90] 



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